“Oh, right.” There’s a marked disappointment in her voice. Like maybe she wanted me to take advantage of her, but was too shy to ask.
Tonight’s endeavors are entirely up to her. If she wants, she could still turn this ship around, navigate my dick into the harbor it so desperately longs to dock in. I have a condom at the ready. God knows my entire existence is crying out, screaming at every cell in her body to want me as bad as I want her.
But Kenny doesn’t make a move.
And neither do I.
I hold Kenny all through the night, watching as the moon radiates its beams over her like a love song. I would spend every night like this if she let me. If I’m lucky, the mice will breed, and she’ll never want to be two feet away from me. But I don’t want our first time to be the result of manipulation on my part.
In fact, I want to put it off until after I tell her exactly how I feel.
And hopefully, she’ll feel the same way, too.
The next afternoon at the gym, I decide to share a few details with Cal without consulting my better judgment.
“You let her decide what to do, and she laid there like a limp rag?” Cal extends his hands, and the weights shift to the left. “Sorry.”
“No—she let me decide. And I decided not to. Besides, that isn’t what she wants.”
“Of course it’s not what she wants. That’s precisely why she didn’t ask for it. She’s probably gay. Face it, you’ve got the wrong anatomy.”
“She’s not gay. She’s just young, sweet, and innocent. She needs to be in a committed relationship.”
“You tell her how you feel?”
“Not yet.”
“What the hell are you waiting for? Those three little words have been uttered time and memoriam in order to secure young, sweet, ‘innocent’ ass.” He takes the weights and hoists them onto the bracket. “Man up already, would you? I’m getting frustrated listening from the sexually deprived sidelines. If I wanted to experience a dry season, I would focus on my own sex life.”
“Maybe I will man up.” I pluck the towel that perpetually hangs from his neck and wipe the sweat off my face.
“Guess who came in yesterday and purchased a membership for the year?” Cal sits on the bench across from me with that I’m-not-shitting-around expression he gets during tax season.
I don’t need to play twenty questions to know its Blair. “What the hell is the deal with her? She’s at Garrison, too.”
“She told Lauren things didn’t work out with her and lover boy. She says she’s back for the long haul—that she wishes she never left. Rumor has it she’s got her sights set on a familiar old boyfriend—or was it fiancé?”
“Nope, not fiancé.” I get up and head out of the room. “She didn’t say yes.”
And, after meeting Kenny, I’ve never been happier.
10
Kendall
A Dozen Long-Stemmed Heartaches
On the Sunday before I bare far more than my mortal soul in art class, I decide to brave the snow and grab some coffee with Lauren and Ally.
Lauren called, said there was some kind of relational emergency and that she needed a hot brunette with a great body ASAP. To be honest, I didn’t like the sound of it.
Cruise has been helping his mother with repairs all weekend at both the hair salon and bed and breakfast. I’m not sure how he magically morphs into a handyman once he leaves the house, and yet the heater remains mysteriously irreparable. Although I’m not complaining. I’ve spent the last week lying naked in his arms with his protruding affection jammed firm against my thigh, and, well, okay, it might have slipped in a more intimate location a time or two, but he was quick to reposition himself.
I’m sure he’s long given up trying to have his way with me. He probably thinks I’m asexual, that I’m not even remotely interested in him or men in general. But the truth is, I’m ready to cave. I’m one heated breath away from turning around in the middle of the night and diving into his delicious dimples. I don’t care if he impales me with that power line between his legs or if it manages to jet right out of my throat in the process. Everything in me cries for his body. I’m not sure what I’m waiting for. But God knows I’m waiting for something.
Per rules of the universe Starbucks is packed wall-to-wall with bodies. You’d think the only working heater in all of Massachusetts was right here in this shop, and if Cruise’s home, and the classrooms at Garrison are any indication, it just might be.
The thick scent of coffee seduces me with its slightly burnt aroma, and I inhale deeply as I get in line.